Forbidden
by XxSailorCapricornxX
Summary: We start off as Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as England, who sets off to visit the island of Seychelles a few years after Francis had reluctantly sold it to him. After all, he had no choice! Seychelles initially despises the man who puts her through so much misery, but eventually... a spark ignites the darkness. SeychellesxEngland and other pairings.
1. Chapter 1 Status, Power, Authority

This is my first shot at trying to write a Hetalia fic, so seriously, don't hate. I'm trying my best here. I hope this chapter will be long enough... I guess it'll just have to be short. Please comment if you have read this and enjoyed it!

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Forbidden -

Seychelles x England

**Chapter 1 **

**Status, Power, Authority.**

The United Kingdom. An extremely powerful nation which consists of four parts - England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Of course, there's also that country that rebelled and gave reason for the Anglo-Irish Treaty to be created, which had caused the British Empire to lose some of the precious land it once held in it's power. No pain, no gain, as I always say, and I must state that I'm quite right. A truce had been called in 1921, and the war ceased. Tch. It was almost the same as losing, and losing is certainly one of my pet hates, but the war had been quite a bother after all. However, there were still some benefits from our exchange with Ireland. They got to be independent under the title "Republic of Ireland" while the English still kept part of their land, which was labelled as "Northern Ireland."

Yes. The deal had been, well... decent. As I stacked the paperwork containing those irritating records of history, I thought of my older siblings with a slight pang of hatred. All my life, I have been tormented by those bloody gits. Sometimes even unintentionally. Even my only sister, who I've always thought of as a much more considerate person than my three brothers had called independence and declared her damn war. God damn it... As for Scotland, he was a major pain in the arse. Speaking in that blooming crude Scots slang of his, walking around in his dodgy striped skirts. Not only that shite, he's also one of the biggest womanizers I know. Well... except for France, of course. That bloody frog gets the top spot and a medal at getting fruity with any sort of woman he can get his grotty hands on.

Speaking of France, isn't it about time I got ready to set sail towards his... past colony? My lips curved into a smirk. It was such a sweet damn feeling to think that the land he once owned was mine, and it was sold to me by the wine bastard himself. Really, he didn't have much of a choice anyway. After all, if his superior had not declined to resist, well... All I can say is that they would have not stood a chance against us, considering their position at the time. Of course, the British army could beat the crap out of that bunch of mindless twats any day, I thought, as I cleared my throat matter-of-factly.

Striding towards the coat hanger at the corner of my room in my usual refined manner, I slipped on my prized scarlet jacket - it was slightly worn, sure, but I felt incomplete while boarding a ship without it. It still retained its faint sense of grandeur, and it made me proud to wear it. Obviously, a gentleman like me has to look his best, everywhere and all the time, even if it's to go and check up on a little midget island like Seychelles.

"Master Kirkland!"

I turned around to face one of the servants.

"Yes, Johnson?" I answered, as my emerald green eyes met the other man's blue ones.

"Sir, the ship is set up and ready to go."

Giving him a slight nod, I wove my fingers in the midst of my forever messy blonde hair, trying to straighten it as much as I could to make it look acceptable. Johnson bowed respectfully before leaving the room. Once he had left, I double checked that I had done all the things I had to do before I set sail for Seychelles. Obviously, every task was completed - I was a practical English man after all.

When I stepped outside, the cold breeze that belonged to the usual British weather greeted me harshly. Bloody hell, would this weather ever change? Forget _that _thought, that's the sure thing to say. Muttering darkly as I boarded the ship, I entered my spacious cabin and sat down at a desk in the corner of the room. Of course, I had ignored all the bowing servants and members of the crew, as I certainly did _not _wish to waste my time.

There were many things to think over, but the biggest, most irritating blooming issue was clear in my head. Seychelles... that damn ungrateful girl. Sure enough, earlier, I was satisfied with visiting, but with the rain pattering forcefully against the land, even the pleasant thoughts in my mind had been washed could I do about her? Visiting was a really rare thing for me to do in her case, as her hatred for me seemed to radiate from her very being. Seems like she hadn't yet forgotten about that wine loving arse. Furiously, I banged my fist against the desk in front of me. What in the bloody hell could I do to make her respectful and ladylike? A grim smile appeared on my lips. From a realistic perspective, that sounds just as ridiculous as that ignorant French frog being a virgin. Which was pretty damn impossible. Realising that I was about to lose my temper again, I attempted to regain my mature composure.

I tried to take a positive approach to the matter, instead of my usual pessimistic manner. Sooner or later, Seychelles would surely give in. Even if I had to be strict with her, I most certainly would. I had been avoiding this for a few years, but the fantasy of seeing France's reaction to seeing his precious pet as a refined English lady was just too tempting. Besides, having an unsophisticated, tomboyish girl as a colony would undoubtedly lower my high class reputation by a considerable amount. If rumours about her arrogant personality were to get out to the public somehow, that would definitely cause much damage to my authority and power. Me being the person I was, that was the last thing I wanted. Surely I'd have to be harsh towards her, but it would all be for the best. Also, the idea of having a little fun at the young island's expense was just far too good to be refused. After all, she _was _my colony, and whether she liked it or not, she belonged to me.

At that thought, newly found confidence rushed through my head. Holding all those positive thoughts in my mind, I didn't even notice when my head drooped down onto the desk below and I dozed off, strained from all the stress. I sure had enough of _that _in life.

When I was awoken some time later, I only had time to drowsily open my eyes before I heard the familiar voices of the crew. "Land! We have arrived at the island of Seychelles!"

Well, nothing to lose now. I repeated my earlier words once more in my head, and to be honest, I was pretty confident as I set foot on the African island. Flanked by four British soldiers, I had to resist the urge to smile. Seychelles was a small, powerless island, compared to the vast and influential United Kingdom. Even if she struggled and refused to abide by the rules, her feisty spirit would be broken eventually. At least, I hoped so. Her stubborn manner and the short temper that she possessed were not to be underestimated. Not at all.

As always, she was nowhere in sight. However, I would bet the Queen's crown jewels that she was hiding nearby, watching reproachfully, as expected from her.

"Seychelles, show yourself right now!"


	2. Chapter 2 The Impudence of Seychelles

**Chapter 2**

**The Impudence of Seychelles**

**Seychelles POV**

There he was, standing high and mighty, as if he ruled the entire world. Authority shone in his sharp green eyes, mixed with a hint of impatience. With his self-centered ideas about his  
_amazing _status and power, I'm sure that he probably expects me to come and bow down to him and cheerfully admire him, in proper English. Ah, and also to wear his country's overrated, complicated dresses while I'm at it. Why do English women even wear those? They're uncomfortable, stuffy and you can't even run or climb trees with them on. Plus, I can't even _count _the layers of layers that come with a single dress, let alone _put them on._

Never in my life would I follow the orders of that English _abruti_. Why was he here all of a sudden, when for all those years he blatantly ignored me? To him, I was just another piece of land to add to his collection. Not only that, but he had cruelly ripped away all of my happiness from me when he took me away from my dear papa Francis. Papa didn't even have time to explain. All he told me was "you'll learn when you're older, mon cheri."

As I watched the French ships sail away back then, I was all alone, unless you count those irritating, stock still English soldiers. Being slightly younger than I am now, I didn't fully understand the situation. Childishly, I believed that my papa would return to me, tell me that it was all a little, innocent joke and give me a warm hug, as usual. Until even that immature illusion was shattered by a voice as cold as ice.

"The Republic of Seychelles, you are now under the rule of the United Kingdom."

One sentence... it had changed my life completely. So had the man who had spoken it.

"Seychelles, come here, right now!"

His commanding voice snapped me out of my memories. Clearly, he was starting to feel irritated, as I could hear anger welling up in his voice. What should I do now? If I continued to hide, he was bound to find me. After all, a man like Arthur Kirkland does not give up so easily. However, if I simply followed his orders and left my hiding place, he'd be equally as furious. Why didn't I give any thought about this before I hid?

Either way, I didn't have much time to think. Sharply and suddenly, green eyes met brown eyes in an accusing manner. Without warning, my hand slipped off the trunk, leaving me sprawled on the ground under the palm tree that I had a secure grip on  
only seconds ago.

I heard the rushing sound of the soldier's boots, before I was greeted with the face of the last person I wanted to see right now. _England._

"You idiot! Why did you hide? You should have followed my orders! What the _hell _were you thinking?!"  
His flushed face showed rage as he stood over me, emerald eyes clouded with fury. He held out his hand to help me up, but I merely reached up to grab the bark of my hiding place. Slowly, I managed to pull myself to a standing position. Suddenly, I felt a brief stab of intense pain in my left wrist. Curiously, I rubbed my wrist, receiving only sharp pain in return.  
"Why would I want to see a British bastard like you?" I managed to whisper, hell bent on being impertinent now. After all, that moron had caused this, and I wasn't going to be sweet towards him _now,_ was I?

Instantly, his facial expression changed to a blank, emotionless state of blind fury. Of course, he had finally snapped. Expecting a harsh impact against my cheek, I closed my eyes tightly and braced myself. Instead, I only heard that arrogant blonde sigh in exasperation. "You're so unladylike..."  
His remark stung for some reason. "Well, look who's talking, _amazing, _important English gentleman. Now let's see, who is the _former hoodlum _here?"

At my words, he immediately stiffened. "Who told you that?"  
His voice proved that he would prefer if I didn't know.

"Guess" I retorted reproachfully, before feeling another short period of pain in my wrist. Instinctively , I bit my lip to resist showing that I was hurt to the Englishman. Despite my efforts, concern showed through his mask of authority . "Hey, are you hurt?" he asked me in a much softer tone.  
Stubbornly, I nodded and held out my wrist. After all, he'd probably figure out eventually anyway. Still, I was puzzled - why was he so worried about me when he was the one that simply ignored me, left me to live a lonesome life under the United Kingdom's subtle control? Arthur Kirkland... He was much more complex than I have ever thought he would be under his thick veil of status and importance.

"You idiot... why can't you just be careful?" he muttered, but I knew that he didn't mean it maliciously - he still spoke in a gentle manner that somehow soothed me.

"When we get back to England, I'll make sure that your wrist gets treated - it's probably just twisted. In the meantime, I suggest that you learn how to look out look out for yourself" he now spoke in a slightly harsher tone, as if he was disciplining me.

"What? What do you mean when _we get _back to England?" I asked, impatience apparent in the tone of my voice. What was he thinking?!  
"Obviously, I'm taking you to England! As one of my colonies, you need to learn how to be a proper lady."

I stood there in furious silence, resisting the urge to simply cry. I just couldn't understand how a man that had shown kindness to me could ruin my entire life all over again so quickly.

At that moment, I hated the person - no, country in front of me. I hated him more than anyone in this whole world.


	3. Note for the Watchers!

Hi guys! I'm so sorry for not uploading another chapter for so long. I promise that there WILL be another chapter this weekend. So be ready for it! ^^ Sorry, it's just that I've been really busy and life has been tough.


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